The Spirit and the Slamander
by fairiestails
Summary: "I would ask if you'd like some company, but I'm a bit worried to ask. Someone as beautiful as you could have any man she wanted, yet you're here alone." The woman smiled. "Maybe I just haven't met the right man." When she finally turned toward him, his smile matched her own. "Well, you haven't met me." / 1920s AU


**A/N:** I've had this AU idea for a while now, so I decided to write it out(:

(Also, the characters this story ARE Natsu and Lucy. I just want to point that out so no one gets confused when they use different names.)

* * *

The door to the jazz club opened, the smell of cigarettes and the sound of applause escaping the building they were once confined in. The woman who entered paused for a moment at the doorway, taking in her surroundings before making her way to the bar across the room, heels tapping along with the drummer as the next song started.

She took an empty seat at the end of the mahogany bar, crossing her legs and resting an elbow on the wood. She was greeted by a bartender, who handed her a drink before moving to the next customer. She left the glass on the table top, untouched.

She took in the sounds around her. The band playing was one she had seen before, but she enjoyed them nonetheless. They played Black Beauty, and although it wasn't the same as having Duke Ellington play it himself, they still did a well enough job. She listened to the low rumble of conversation of couples meeting for dates, or men meeting for business. She could hear forks and knives scraping across plates as people ate, and she could smell the food as it was carried from the kitchen.

She surveyed the men around her before her eyes fell on one in particular.

He sat at the other end of the bar, green eyes staring at her questioningly. She stared back, her own expression seeming to answer a question he hadn't asked.

She watched as he picked up his glass, moving down the row of seats to occupy an empty one next to her. The woman stayed as she was, her back to the bar, her body facing the band that was playing. She didn't bother to look at the man as he spoke.

"I would ask if you'd like some company, but I'm a bit worried to ask."

The right corner of the woman's mouth twitched a bit as it was pulled into a grin.

"Are you afraid I'll say no?"

She watched the band as they stopped playing. She clapped with the rest of the bar as the players set up for their next song. The man next to her spoke up over the sound of hands colliding.

"A bit. Someone as beautiful as you could have any man she wanted, yet you're here alone."

The left side of the woman's mouth turned up to meet the right, and she watched the drummer adjust the height of his snare. "Maybe I just haven't met the right man."

When she finally turned toward him, his smile matched her own. "Well, you haven't met me."

The woman laughed, then; short and sarcastic, she rolled her eyes before pulling her arm back and reaching into her purse.

"That was awful," she mused, pulling out a cigarette case and flipping it open. With trained precision she pushed one of the slim sticks so it jut out from the case. She slipped it between her lips before snapping the metal closed, dropping it back in the purse that sat on her lap. "If that was meant to impress me, it was severely lacking in effort."

The man's smile simply twisted into a smirk as he pulled out a lighter from within his jacket pocket. Flipping the top open, he sparked a flame to life, offering its service to the woman. She leaned toward the flame, lighting her cigarette before taking a long drag, pulling the end away from her lips with slender fingers. The small light from the flame cast a shadow on his face as it lit up his features.

For a moment, the woman thought she saw the hair that fringed just above the man's eyes glow a pink hue in the short flame.

"It was never meant to impress. It was only a statement of fact."

The woman thought for a moment as she exhaled a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling.

"It was, I suppose," she let out a low hum, more to herself than anyone else. The man took another sip of his drink before placing it on the bar behind him.

"I'd ask your name, but I'm not sure if I've earned it yet."

The woman laughed again – it was softer this time, and not as sarcastic. She thought for a moment as she took another drag of her cigarette. The band had begun to play St. Louis Blues, and she hummed a second time before looking at the man from the corner of her eye.

"Layla," was all she said, flicking the end of her cigarette with her thumb quickly, dropping the ash at the end into the tray on the bar behind her. "And yours?"

"Igneel," the man smiled, and she could see his canines as he grinned, as they were lower than the rest of his teeth, and much sharper. The woman smiled back, turning in her chair to face him fully.

She swept a portion of her blonde hair behind her ear, although some escaped, cutting off just below her chin. She propped her elbow on the bar again, using it to stabilize her hand as she forced the end of her cigarette into the ash tray. She extinguished it slowly before turning to the man next to her. "Would you like to dance, Igneel?"

The man smiled, standing and holding out his arm on response. The woman stood as well, wrapping her hand around his arm as he led her to the dance floor.

They turned to face each other once they reached the open area, the man sliding one of his arms down the woman's torso to rest on her lower back. She placed one of her hands on his shoulder, the other extending out to hold his hand. He pulled her closer, and she smirked as they swayed.

 _I hate to see that evening sun gone down, 'cause my lovin' baby done left this town…_

The man watched as the woman closed her eyes, taking in the sound of the singer's voice at the front of the stage. She sighed as she looked up at him, her chocolate eyes shining with an innocence that made the man wish he could drown in them. He coughed quietly to himself, shaking his head a bit and extending the distance between himself and his dance partner.

 _If I feel tomorrow like I feel today…_

The woman had other ideas, however, as she decided to close the distance the man attempted to put between them. She placed her head on his chest, sighing to herself as she listened to his heartbeat over the sound of the music playing.

 _Oh, that St. Louis woman with her diamond rings, she pulls my man around by her apron sleeves…_

The woman pulled back, then, lifting the man's arm and taking it upon herself to spin in a small circle beneath it. The man laughed, pulling her back to dip her down, her torso parallel with the floor beneath her. Her smile grew, and she laughed along with him.

They danced through the next five songs together, smiling and laughing and holding each other closer than they probably should have.

And then the man kissed her.

It was short, his lips meeting hers as the last song came to an end. The woman felt her cheeks flush as her heart raced. His lips were softer than she'd expected, and there was a spark in them that left the woman wanting much more. He tasted like fire and whiskey, and she had never tasted anything so wonderful.

As soon as he pulled away, though, she pushed herself away from him. She turned quickly, hurrying back in the direction of the bar. The man stood on the dance floor for a moment, blinking twice before following suit. As he watched her gather her things and pay her tab, he moved up behind her.

"Leaving already?"

The woman shrugged, glancing over her shoulder at the man behind her. "There's not much here to keep my interest."

The man frowned and, although he would never admit it, was offended. He stood behind her as she turned, blocking her from leaving.

"So have you still not found the right guy, then?"

The woman smiled up at him, and it was something wicked – her lips curling up at the end made the man weak in the knees as she spoke.

"Now, I never said that, did I?"

She pushed past him and headed out the door with the man trailing after her. He shrugged his coat on as he left the club, pausing for a moment before watching the woman head down the alley they were located in. He smirked to himself as he jogged to catch up to her, reaching out and grabbing her hand.

"Where are you headed to?"

But instead of an answer he was expecting, he was met with a pair of lips on his own. He stumbled back a bit, but was stopped by the wall behind him. He felt her grab the front of his coat, pulling him closer towards her. He closed his eyes, letting his hands slide down her sides to rest on her hips.

But just as quickly as she'd started kissing him, she stopped. Pushing herself off of him she turned again, quickly walking down the alley. The man smiled to himself for a moment before calling out to her.

"You should really stop running off like that. You might accidentally leave something behind."

The woman stopped as the man held up a slip of paper behind her. She turned toward him, her eyes growing wide as he watched him read the words aloud.

"'Lucy Heartfielia'," he read, "'Irish immigrant'."

He hummed to himself as he moved toward her, tapping the end up the paper to his chin. "So I'll take it Layla isn't your name, then?"

The woman's gaze fell to the floor as she spoke.

"It was my mother's."

The man nodded as he stopped in front of her, slipping her hand into the pocket of her coat.

"And this is mine."

He pulled out a wad of money tied together with a rubber band. He smiled to himself as he placed back into the inner front pocket of his jacket.

"So, what are you going to do now then?" the question slipped from the woman's mouth in a whisper. The man stood silent for a moment before speaking.

"Well, I'm going to ask you to dinner."

The breath she'd been holding left her lungs in a laugh of disbelief, and she turned to face the man with her eyebrows raised.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, after I give this back to you, of course." He held out her ID, and she snatched it from his hands, a frown on her face.

"No, you need to answer my question."

The man shrugged, smiling. "Well it's only fair, considering I lied to you, too."

"I…. What?"

He leaned against the wall next to him. "My name is Natsu. And I was going to do exactly what you did to me," his smile grew. " _You_ just got caught."

The woman felt her cheeks grow red as she stared at the grinning man in front of her. "Why… Are you telling me this?"

"Well, because I changed my mind once I realized I'd rather take you out than never see you again. Plus," he pulled himself off of the wall and walked past her, "you had my money. I need it to pay for dinner."

He turned to face her, holding his hand out questioningly. "Well? Are you coming?"

The woman laughed again, this time at the sheer ridiculous situation she was in. She nodded, though, taking his hand and moving alongside him.

"Sure, why not?"

* * *

 _"You should really pick your marks mare carefully, Spirit."_

 _"Oh shut it, Salamander. You picked me, didn't you?"_

 _"So?"_

 _"So how much better can you be at picking your marks than I am?"_

 _"Okay… you got me there."_


End file.
